Not the Chosen One
by TheFaceofaHero
Summary: Obi-Wan gets sent back in time. There's just one slight problem: he wakes up in the wrong body. Now Obi-Wan has to train another Padawan, deal with his younger self, put up with the Council, and act the good (secret) husband to his wife Padmé Amidala. Oh, and save the galaxy from the machinations of Sheev Palpatine. Not too much of a challenge, is it?
1. Chapter 1

When one dies it is an assured fact that they become one with the Force. This is what we were all taught at the Temple as younglings.

It does not mean one is ripped from their time and that one resumes corporeal form. I do not understand what is happening around me as I blearily open my eyes.

The shrill of the klaxon cuts the air, and I grimace from the mounting headache. I see stormtroopers and other uniformed personnel rush past me, going to and fro.

I immediately tense, hand creeping towards my saber.

I scan the flood of white armor and amend my initial observation. These were clones. I sense no hostility from them. The floor beneath me shudders something awful and I sway, almost stumbling into the nearest wall.

I do not understand what is going on. The Force flows through me, but my right arm feels... hindered. I look down at my tunic, at my arms. Turning my hands palm-side up, I don't recognize the gauntlet design.

These belonged to... Anakin.

My heart jumps up into my throat and my stomach drops into my boots. With a trembling hand, I rub my jaw and my fingers skim over smooth skin.

I'm a fifty-seven year old trapped in the body of a young man, and I'm not just saying this to get attention!

The worst of my fears is confirmed as a familiar Togruta speeds towards me, grounding to a halt. "Master - "

Whatever else she proceeds to say, I ignore it. I'm not your master, young one. I suddenly feel very far away.

To summarise:

I died.

I got sent back in time.

I somehow - somehow - became my former Padawan.

...Is this a joke?

Reincarnation?

At an utter loss for words, I must seem like a baffled youngling.

Or maybe this is a chance to right the wrongs that occured before?

But did I really have to end up as Anakin?

Ahsoka gives me a look. "Master, are you okay? You look like you've been dragged through seven of the nine hells."

I glance around. We're in a hanger. Starfighters are being deployed, soldiers are shouting instructions to each other.

"What's going on, Ahsoka?" I ask, clutching my foreheard. She arches an eyemarking at me. I meet her expression with one of my own.

"The Seppies are attacking us just after we exited hyperspace. You ordered all squadrons to deploy." She turns to dash to her fighter. "Come on, Master. I bet I'll beat you this time," she adds with a cheeky grin.

I blink. "This isn't a game, Padawan," I snap. "Remember that." Talking in Anakin's voice will definitely take getting used to. I stroke my chin thoughtfully. I'll also have to talk like Anakin. That's going to be a pain to recall how.

She pauses and glances back at me. She falters. "Of course, Master." The reply's subdued.

"...Get out there and do some damage, Ahsoka," I tell her. Sounds like something Anakin would say. "Just keep an eye out for the troopers, too."

"Aren't you coming? Show off some of that ace piloting?"

I barely supress a shudder. Fighter-piloting? Shortly after I got slammed into the new here and now? I haven't piloted a ship in twenty years. I flash Ahsoka a horrified look. The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them. "Are you daft? I need to be up on the bridge." She is very bemused, judging by the jiggling waves that make up part of her Force signature.

"Just go!" Ahsoka takes off in the direction of her fighter and hops into it. I turn around as she blasts off into space to engage the Separatists.

The bridge is a cacaphony of field reports and comm calls as I stride in. Troops man their terminals. The holotable fizzes every so often.

Admiral Yularen isn't expecting Anakin Skywalker. He has his arms folded behind his back, issuing commands and fixating his gaze on the CIS vessels ahead of us.

I am clueless as to the specifics of the battle. I stop beside the naval officer. "Situation report, Admiral," I demand.

He whirls his head round to face me. "General Skywalker? I thought you decided to lead the attack squadrons."

"Changed my mind." I cross my arms. "Ahsoka's got a handle on things. Your report?"

The admiral stands to attention, back ram-rod straight, and spouts out damage percentages and casualty counts thus far. I let it all wash over me. I'm back in the Clone War.

Not as the famed Negotiator, however.

My younger self is out there somewhere. Meeting him will be quite the experience, I expect.

It'll give 'talking to yourself' a whole new meaning. The developing train of thought is derailed by the trembling of the Republic Star Destroyer.

I look out to my right and the sight fills me with dread, my stomach heavy as lead. An attack cruiser is drowning in a sea of flames. It drops out of formation, the behemoth of a ship breaking apart into countless fragments.

Another shudder. Everybody sway, and then scramble to regain balance.

"They've increased all forward firepower! The ship is being torn apart!" shouts one of the clone officers. Not only that, the Separatist frigates are nearing our cruisers.

I comm Ahsoka. "What's the situation, Padawan?" I ask. I feel a twinge of... something painful. My heart pangs. I haven't called anyone that in a long time, I just realise.

"Master, they've formed a blockade, but we can break through! I just need more time!" I hear laserfire and the zooming of starfighters over the comm channel.

"What about your squadron?"

"I haven't checked. Zeta squadron, come in." Dead silence. "Zeta, do you read me? Respond." I already know what happened. I lower my head into my hands.

Ahsoka's panicking.

Yularen contacts the rest of the Republic fliers. "Shadow Squadron? Blue? Gold?"

Pilots from those units check in. All teams have sustained brutal losses.

"Ahsoka, you have to get back to the _Resolute._ "

"We can't just retreat. We can't let the Seppies win, Master!"

"Tell all teams to return aboard. We're leaving," I command the admiral. He nods stoically as he gives the order.

"That means you as well, Padawan."

But Ahsoka's stubborn. She spits arguments back at me, and I'm about to put my foot down when more frigates drop out of hyperspace behind us.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Those aren't Republic ships.

A trooper reports that the _Resolute's_ shields are vapourized.

After that, that's when it happens.

Ahsoka's fighter is hit, and the only thing I hear is static. Panic grips me in a vice. I do my best to release all my worry, all my fear into the Force.

I draw on it, and reach for the right threads. My eyes widen. She is still alive, but unconscious.

The next status update to come through states the hyperdrive has been too severely damaged.

"Everyone to the escape pods! Double-time, move it!"

We are surrounded from every side. Flying out the hanger isn't an option. I tear from the bridge, barreling down the various corridors. The matter of Ahsoka's safety is still a concern. I bring the comlink on my gauntlet within kissing distance and instruct any nearby pilots to tow the Jedi Commander's fighter back to the cruiser.

The same cruiser that's currently being blown to bits and has its personnel fleeing it.

Ben, you are so clever. I shake off the self-criticism. There'll be time for it later.

Being young again does have its advantages, I find. I haven't run so fast in a very long while. However I've also forgotten how to be a General. I felt utterly useless up on the bridge.

I skid to a stop as I see burning orange being etched into the wall in a circular motion. We're being boarded. Troopers have their blasters trained on the disturbance.

"Go, I'll deal with this," I assure once I sense who's on the other side of the hull. A faint signature, with almost as little Force residue as a droid.

Fitting, for the general of the droid army.

Grevious stomps through the hole in the wall, flanked and followed by B1 units. "Anakin Skywalker," he coughs. "I will enjoy adding your lightsaber to my collection."

He ignites his stolen sabers, and I ignite mine. Well, Anakin's. It never felt right in my hand. Too unbalanced. Too uneven. Now I must wield it as though it were my own. I adopt the Soresu opening stance, saber level with my nose, free arm outstretched.

Our blades clash as he presses the offensive, and I dance and skirt around his slashes and swings. It's not my intention to properly duel the general, only to distract him while the _Resolution_ empties out. I discover I cannot keep up with Grevious.

My previous opponent was a shell of Anakin, masked, caped, and dressed to the nines in synthleather. We were both slow, and parrying each other's strikes like younglings. It showed how much I've lost my touch.

The cyborg forces me back, each attack more and more aggressive. He bears down on me, eyes locking onto mine. Sparks flit past our faces.

I jump back, and emerald and green blurs swing in a wide arc. I yell in pain as the blades score my torso, just under my collarbones. I grit my teeth and tighten my hold on Anakin's lightsaber.

"Die, Jedi scum!" Grevious rasps, going in for the kill. I block his attack, struggling against his towering form. He kicks out my left knee - and _oh_ , that _smarts_.

I mark the end of the duel by smashing Grevious into a wall with a thrust of my palm, and then I race for the escape pods. If there are any left.

The Force is with me today, as there's one lonely pod left. I climb inside it, and jettison myself from the crumbling cruiser.

* * *

Adrift in space, debris floating past me like jagged clouds, I am alone. I feel weak from the injury streaked across my chest.

Imagine my surprise when R2 shows up in a Delta-7B interceptor. Its bleeps crackle through my comlink. It is relieved to see me relatively well.

The trouble is getting from the pod to the cockpit, with the expanse of space between them. I just have to time it right.

"Alright, Artoo. Open the cockpit for me. When I'm inside, shut it and pump it full of oxygen."

Jedi can hold their breath for a short period, depending on the species and how skilled one is. The astromech positions the interceptor as close as possible to the pod without bumping into it. I suck in a huge gulp of air, blast the hatch open with the Force, and step onto the left wing.

The chill of space envelopes me until I am in the confines of the starfighter and the transparisteel seals shut with a hiss.

It's only a few seconds, but walking in space felt like millenia. Clutching my upper arms, I shiver.

"Takes us home." I then tack on, "To Coruscant."

His response makes me roll my eyes. The snark on this little fellow! I should have him wiped and reprogrammed.

We fly off, abandoning evidence of a disasterous space battle. We enter hyperspace, and an eerie uniform glow embraces us.

* * *

Seeing the Temple again brings back a flood of memories. I endeavour to not shed tears as I march up the steps and then weave through the hallways and corridors.

It's teeming with life. Seething.

It... it is simply wonderful.

No dead bodies strewn about. No clones on the premises.

Just Jedi. Younglings, Padawans, Knights, Masters.

Alas, the moment of joy passes when I face the Council to report my recent failure.

I should be happy to see them, alive and well.

Yet I am not.

Did Anakin always feel doubted and loathed by us? These are the things I feel, answering their questions and gauging their reactions. I keep my hands behind my back, trying to wear a blank expression that gives away nothing. They must not know what's happened to Anakin Skywalker. That I - unintentionally - have taken his place.

Anakin never liked the Council. Especially not after Ahsoka walked away from the Order and after the Rako Hardeen incident. I think that's when I began to lose his trust. I wounded him deeply by staging my death and allowing him to grieve falsely. Maybe it was before that, when his mother died. I didn't take his visions seriously, and look how that turned out.

I'm lost in an ocean of rumination. Naturally, I paid a visit to the Healers beforehand. It wouldn't do to arrive at a Council meeting with lightsaber burns on my person. Vokara Che was as harsh as ever. Besides that, I got to see Ahsoka. She has some burns, and some bruises, the worst of which are on her head-tails, and a concussion. She'll heal, of course.

It was a reminder of my failure to protect her. My heart sank. I was fond of Ahsoka - and still am, seeing as she's still with us. The grandpadawan has become the padawan, and now she will learn from me.

The idea makes me worried and uncomfortable.

I failed Anakin.

Am I going to fail Ahsoka too?

"Skywalker, that is all. You're excused," Master Windu's voice slashes through my thoughts.

"Thank you, Masters." I bow and take my leave.

I trudge to the quarters which I share with my younger self as of today. I scowl at the mess. Anakin loved to tinker with his droids. In sollitude, I don't need to be the Hero with No Fear. So I clear away the junk, make myself a pot of tea, and settle down to meditate.

I release everything to the Force. The confusion, the anxiety, the uncertainty. All of it flows out of me and the Force takes it from me. I'm absolved of my burden. I retain my joy, my relief.

I will take absolute adavantage of the opportunity before me. Things will not happen the way they did. The Order will remain strong.

That means overthrowing Palpatine. The Jedi cannot continue to blindly serve the Senate. The Chancellor, my lips curl in disgust, shan't be in power for much longer.

The Clone Army is a cause for concern. They turned on the Jedi, gunned us down. An order was issued. Order 66. I sift through my recollections, neatly and carefully organised.

How to stop it? Even the loyalest of troops betrayed us. A bitter taste wells up in my mouth. Cody. The 212th.

A swish of the door. Footfalls. My ginger counterpart is home.

"There you are. You're not tinkering with droids. And you made tea. And you're actually meditating. Which explains the first part." He takes a sip from one of the cups on the kitchenette. "This is the kind I like."

"...I had to have picked up on something after being your Padawan for so long." I regard him. He's feigning an air of nonchalance, mask of the Negotiator firmly in place. If I know myself - which I do - I'd say he is troubled by something, but doing his best to hide it.

The shared quarters is thick with tension. Finally, I can't take it any longer. "Spit it out, old man. What's eating at you?"

"Old?" He huffs indignantly. "Hardly old."

"Well-seasoned, then?"

"Anakin." There it is. What I used to do. Pretend to be exasperated but actually think fondly of Anakin.

I once did. Until he was seduced by the Dark Side. Until he fell.

"You gonna tell me, or are you going to just do that thing?"

"What thing?"

"The one where you pretend nothing's wrong."

He hesitates. "I can't sense you anymore. Our old training bond... it's been severed." The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. I'm not Anakin. With him out of the picture, the bond had to follow.

That leaves another question hanging in the air. What happened to everything that makes up Anakin Skywalker? Is he where I was, during the Empire's reign? Has he been washed away, gone forever?

I do not know.

"Perhaps it was the will of the Force," I muse.

He contemplates, elbow cupped, eyes cast downwards, beard given tender attention. I wish I still had one. It's like being a Padawan all over again!

"I've been asked to pass on a message to you."

"From whom? What do they have to say?"

"The Chancellor would like to meet you in his office. To discuss your recent mission."

Ah. That. I'll have to step into the rancor pit sooner than later. I wear a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Well, we can't keep the head of democracy waiting."

* * *

I try to keep myself from choking the man where he stands, but the urge is just so - there. It doesn't go away. It persists. I ease myself into the Force, blanketing my spiritual essence in its soothing energies.

I can't blow my cover in front of the Sith Lord.

"Anakin, come in, come in. Sit down, my friend." The Chancellor sits with his fingers steepled. "You must be tired after that battle."

"It didn't go too well."

"So I've heard. But it's not your fault, my boy. I'm sure you did everything you could. This war... it takes its toil, Anakin. It takes its toil."

Yes, because you orchestrated the entire Clone War. Because you still _are_ orchestrating galactic turmoil. "Was there anything you wanted from me, Chancellor?"

"Just to chat." Somehow I doubt that very much. The creature before me makes my skin crawl. How could I have ever let Anakin near this monster?

"How's the Jedi Council been treating you?" It sounds like a trick question. Anakin would probably explode into a tirade about how unjust the Council was, how they didn't trust him, how they prevented him from being great.

I reply sullenly, "Same as always."

"I won't profess to understand Jedi dogma, but surely they must see what I see."

His grandfatherly behaviour sickens me. I don't stick around for long. He asks how Senator Amidala is. We briefly discuss the political situation in the Senate, and I get a refresher on the state of affairs in this era.

Afterwards I check up on Ahsoka. She is upset. I suppose she expects me to give out, to blame her for the defeat.

I do nothing of the sort. Instead I say, "Don't be hard on yourself, Padawan."

"But how can't I be? I - those men, Drummer, Weaver, Skovak, they trusted me. And I didn't - I - "

I smile sadly at Ahsoka. Reciting a platitude seems terribly inappropriate, especially after all I have been through. "It doesn't get any easier, but over time, you learn to bear the pain. It's..." I think of all my brothers and sisters of the Force who died in and because of an utterly pointless conflict that spanned - spans (time travel makes things confusing) - from the Core to the Outer Rim. Of how I lived on Tatooine as a hermit, mourning the end of the Jedi.

Was I the last to go? The final Jedi to be struck down by a shadow of my brother?

Swallowing thickly, I croak, "Don't dwell on your failures. Focus on your duty, your duty as a Jedi." I speak from the heart. I spent twenty years watching over Luke. The obligation to protect Anakin's son was what kept me together. It prevented me from losing my way during my exile.

It occurs to me. I haven't been a proper Jedi for - two decades, in fact.

And isn't that a heavy thought.

"It helps you keep going. Trust me. I know."

Ahsoka's eyes meet mine, and I see clarity shine in them. "Thank you, Master."

* * *

Obi-Wan and I are assigned an escort mission.

To bring the Duchess of Mandalore safely to Coruscant.

Being with Satine stirs up old memories I'd thought were buried deep during the years on Tatooine.

Dear Satine won't recognise me, and I'm fine with that. I walk with her to her quarters. She's annoyed by my presence, I can feel it.

It might have something to do with Anakin's face.

"Very bold of you, Duchess, to take such a position during these dark times. Bold, but admirable." A smile ghosts over my lips.

"I will do what I must for the sake of my people, Knight Skywalker."

"You're right, about a lot of things. About the Jedi."

The statement has the desired effect, grabbing her attention.

"We're peacekeepers, not generals. The war's changing us, and not in a way that'll lead to anything good, I fear."

"You believe the Jedi shouldn't be involved in the war?" Her tone shows that interest has been piqued.

"Not in the manner we currently are."

"And yet you're revered by the Republic, Knight Skywalker. The Hero with No Fear." Satine flicks a stern look at me.

I snort softly. Not you too, Satine. Don't buy into that propaganda. "Everyone has fears, Duchess. Even Jedi. We're not above fear, or any other emotions. We're not infallible."

"Why're you telling me this?"

"Outsiders don't understand the Jedi. Not really. I was hoping that by gaining insight, you wouldn't just view the Jedi as these holier-than-thou sentients."

Satine smiles at Anakin Skywalker genuinely for the first time. "An image that's been upheld for thousands of years."

I give a shrug.

Subsequently I expose Tal Merrick and the clones destroy the assassin droids smuggled onboard. Obi-Wan is surprised. "How'd you know there was a plot to remove the Duchess?"

I tap a temple with a smirk. "Precognition. I had a vision."

"Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"Would you have believed me?" He looks away.

Silence.

It's the answer to his question.


	2. Chapter 2

I deliberate. I plan. I find myself in the Archives more and more often, reading up on the Jedi Temples of old.

Countermeasures must be in place to preserve the future of the Order.

I even go to the trouble of summoning the Council.

I imagine it's quite the surprise for them. The 'Chosen One', demanding an audience, instead of it being the other way around.

We meet in the War Room. Being the first one to arrive, I wait for the members still on Coruscant to be seated.

The others tune in to the conference via hologram.

"What's this about, Skywalker?" Mace Windu looks much too sombre for a man whose afternoon meditation was interrupted. Then again, he always was a serious character, especially when dealing with Anakin.

"The future of the Jedi Order," I state grandly.

"And what exactly does that entail?" asks my younger counterpart.

I bring up a list of worlds on the holotable. "Not keeping all the Jedi in one temple." I flick through images of various planets. "Vrogas Vas, Ilum, Tython, Lothal. These are just a few of the locations that I believe would be more than suitable for sequestering the younglings."

Yoda questions, "Unsafe on Coruscant, you believe they are?"

I pin the Grandmaster with a look. "There've been break-ins before." Cad Bane springs to mind.

"And as a result of these intrusions, security has been strengthened," cuts in Mace.

I shake my head. "Who's to say it won't happen again? Someone will find another way to exploit the Temple's weaknesses."

Windu's eyes narrow, aiming a harsh glare at me. "The younglings are safe here." His tone is one of finality. "I believe you've taken up enough of the Council's time, Skywalker."

"At least consider it. Medidate on it," I try to sway them, to no avail.

Nobody listens. I leave the War Room in a huff. Stupid, arrogant Mace! His overconfidence will be the death of them all. I'm enveloped in a storm cloud of frustration and incense. I do not want to see younglings like - like lifeless dolls strewn about in the place they called home. Thinking about it sickens me.

Ahsoka's waiting for me outside, up and about again. "Hey, Skyguy. Council meeting go okay?"

She then frowns, picking up on my bad mood.

"Not really. But I don't wanna discuss it."

"We gonna go spar?" She sounds hopeful. She's still recovering though, so that's not exactly the best idea. Ahsoka, always eager for a fight, be it a real one or otherwise.

I stop in the corridor and pivot on my heel, assessing her. "Actually, when's the last time you meditated?"

* * *

It turns out it's been a while for the plucky Tano.

To my right she rests on her haunches, head canted slightly with her eyes shut. As for myself, I have settled into the lotus position.

There's one key topic I wish to broach with Ahsoka, and I feel it should be sooner than later. Now is about an opportune moment as any. We won't be bothered where we are.

I crack one eye open and glance at her. "Do you ever think about the Code? Its meaning? Its implications for us as Jedi?"

She raises a brow. "Philosophy, Master?"

"Yes, Ahsoka. Have you considered it?" She shifts in her seat, appearing uncomfortable.

"Kinda got a war going on, Master, so no."

"Always time for reflection, little one," I chide her gently. "The Code itself. Would you say it for me?"

She recites the mantra, and her brows knit together. "Why are we going over this, Master? We all know the Code."

"I guess I should just be more direct."

"It would certainly help."

My eyelid drops down and I imbue myself with the Force. The light takes me in. I relax. "My question is this: is the Code all there is to being a Jedi?"

A snort escapes Ahsoka's lips. "Of course not. We help the needy, we fight for the Republic, we keep the galaxy safe." She stumbles through a whole heap of reasons why obedience of the Code isn't the sole attribute of a Jedi.

"I find it difficult to adhere to the Code during wartime. It goes beyond testing you. It pushes you past the breaking point."

I give a mirthless smile. "Maybe you'll agree with me. It's kinda hard to look past all the chaos and death at this point."

I see the effects of war weighing on her. One so young shouldn't look so tired. Her piercing gaze bores into mine. "I think I feel the same way, Master."

Biting my lip, I nod. "What if the traditional way isn't the right way? Hypothetically speaking."

Ahsoka says slowly, "That sounds an awful lot like heresy, Master."

"We don't follow the rules anyway, so what's the big deal if we add another one to the list?"

Ahsoka's scandalised. "Disobeying the Code could get us expelled!"

"That depends on your point of view," I smirk at her.

"What?"

"I did some digging at the Archives recently, and I found the original version. It goes something like this: Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force."

"I..." Ahsoka clutches her forehead. "That's..."

"Yes, Padawan?"

"It's confusing, is what it is. How can there be emotion and peace at the same time? Releasing our emotions gives us peace."

"Does it, though?" She looks lost. "Does it help you? Do you find yourself at peace when you do that?" I place my hands on my knees.

She rubs her chin, pondering the answer. "I think I do. But I still..."

"We all struggle to follow the tenets. It's natural."

"But what about 'chaos and harmony'? How can they co-exist? Or passion and serenity for that matter?"

"It's all down to your self-discipline, in the end. Your self-control."

Ahsoka frowns deeply. "And the last line?"

"To deny that there's no death, only the Force is foolish. One cannot exist without the other. They're forever linked."

"It's definitely more open-ended, Master."

"I like my Code to be more liberal. I think it works better. It strives to achieve wisdom and understanding while having your emotions, despite not knowing every scrap of knowledge. Even though one could experience a burst of passion every now and again."

"Isn't having emotions bad, though? That is what we're taught."

"Is it? We release our emotions to the Force, but sometimes we can't. And when one can't, that can lead to embarassment and frustration that just builds up in you until you don't know how to cope. What then?"

"I don't know."

"Ahsoka, it's okay if you don't get it. But I'm saying it's not possible to hide everything away and pretend it's not there. We're people too. And I'm not one for trying to hide my feelings." Anakin never was. He didn't make it a secret that he was against many of the Jedi teachings that he assumed were detrimental to what we were meant to be. My core trembles at the memory of this.

"You're not exactly subtle." She fidgets on the spot. "Why would they change it?"

"Probably so that new learners had an easier time understanding it. Considering our situation..."

"The current version doesn't seem like it's suited for it. Master, I need some time to reflect."

"What's meditation for?"

* * *

Padmé Amidala was many things to Anakin Skywalker. His wife, his confidante, his obsession.

She's none of these things to me.

A trusted friend, yes, but beyond that...

It will be most difficult to fool her. She's been harrassing me non-stop for the past few days with messages. She is aware I'm on Coruscant, and her lovesick attitude is starting to get on my nerves.

I want to avoid her like the Empire, but that's sadly not an option. I'll have to face her at some point.

Might as well get it over with.

I come at a bad time. It's during a meeting with a group of Senators, most of which she'd consider upstanding and decent. Bail Organa is there. It fills my heart with relief to see him alive and well.

What happened to Alderaan was a devastating tragedy. The horrific loss of life resulted in a cataclysmic shockwave that exploded through the Force, and left me at a loss for words. The Empire has - had no bounds. It stopped at nothing.

To think, I died and left Luke alone to fight against Vader, against the Emperor. Who'll be there to guide him?

No, I mustn't confuse myself. That was then and this is now. "Afternoon, Senators," I say smoothly. Some greet me in return while others remain quiet. All heads are turned in my direction.

Anakin's wife does not look pleased. Well you were the one who wanted to see me, Senator. Before things get any more awkward, I use a bit of Force persuasion to wrap the discussion up. Padmé knows what's happening, as does Bail, I'm sure. The Senators clear out in single file, and I watch them go.

With the last of her guests having departed, Padmé turns to me, expression twisting into a scowl. "Anakin, I was the middle of discussing a very important bill."

"It can wait." Truthfully, it doesn't matter what the Republic politicians do. What votes they cast. What bills they oppose. Palpatine's the puppeteer. He wins regardless.

"You look radiant as ever, Padmé." It's been a while since I've tried my hand at sweet-talking. Let's see how I fare.

"Ani, I've missed you." Her expression softens by a fraction.

I act sheepish, scratching the back of my neck. "I missed you too, angel." Did I seriously just say that? Why would I say that?

Then comes the embrace. It's over quickly, and I didn't squirm during it. Not at all. Squirming is not the Jedi way.

"I wanted to discuss something with you. Something important. It's about the Chancellor."

"What is it?"

"Your opinion on whether he deserves to get more and more emergency powers or not."

She cups her elbows, inclining her head. "He's the Chancellor. He is leading us through the Clone War." She's avoiding the question.

"Yes, but with him at the helm, you think we've got a chance of winning?"

"I want to say yes, because the Republic must prevail. Democracy must prevail."

"But can we trust him to not abuse these powers?"

"Ani, where's this coming from?" She glides closer to me. "You're a huge supporter of the Chancellor. You're always quick to defend him."

"Maybe I learned the error of my ways. Maybe I realised you can't have too much faith in one person. Especially one who demands more and more power. It's not important. With all the authority he's amassed, Palpatine's not gonna step down. Why would he? It's not in his favour. It's not in his interest."

"That sounds like a bit of a far stretch."

"It's not a coincidence. Look at the past few months and tell me it's not a coincidence."

"Many believe he's the best hope the Republic's got."

"Do you believe that?" She doesn't reply. "Padmé, you know you can be honest with me," I promise her.

"If he doesn't step down when the war's over, then he is a power-hungry man. He'd be dealt with appropriately." Legally, you mean. And I don't recall that working before.

"The time to act is now."

"What you're suggesting is treason."

"It's not treason if we're saving the Republic."

"What would you have me do? He has so many supporters backing him."

"Then find ones that will back you."

* * *

Duelling yourself is... it's mesmerising. Hypnotic.

I try not to get distracted as I absorb his attacks and wait for an opening to return the favour.

And uncanny. Did I mention uncanny? I once was him. The great duelist of the Order. The master of Soresu. But what's defined Obi-Wan Kenobi, that is me, is behind me.

The notion of calling the younger Kenobi a seperate person has crossed my mind. He's not me. He hasn't gone through what I've been through. That said, we do share the same memories of the Clone War, and of all before that.

I don't feel any guilt for giving him the cold shoulder. After that Council meeting, I have had no desire to speak with him.

The Negotiator is nothing if not persistent. He cornered me during kata practice, where I was working on one of the exercises I'd developed under the twin suns. Designed with dunes and sandstorms in mind. I roil and whip around and lunge my way through the katas when most of the Temple is quieter than a snoozing bantha.

I learned to deflect. That led to searing results. I failed to reflect a bolt and my shoulder protested sharply. I switched to a reverse grip and fared much better, riding out the pain.

A Jedi can't let one blaster bolt slow them down.

I challenge anyone around in the afternoons to a duel. Variation and lack of predictability are essential ingredients to my improving.

Obi-Wan was the one to challenge me and so here we are. I get my opening. He weaves in and out, elegantly defending himself against each strike, as I push him towards the wall.

Then I cease my assault, and await his comeback. "You'd think, that when it comes to our own," I gripe, "the Council would consider it one of their top priorities to keep the future generations safe."

"You didn't wait for the vote."

There was a vote? "Windu dismissed me."

"So we could discuss it in private." That makes no sense. Waiting for a vote, yet being dismissed before the vote. The Council displayed its wisdom in full.

"It was my idea. You should have told me to stay back if you actually wanted to plan for it."

"It was a surprising proposal, Anakin. I was surprised that you showed such care about the younglings' well-being."

"The Order's my home. Of course I care."

He blinks, stunned into silence. Then, "Anakin..."

"Nothing's changed, though. Lemme guess, Council thought they can't diverge enough resources?" I snidely ask.

He stays composed. I spot a glimmer in his eyes. "Oh. So that is it. You disagreed, then?"

"I debated at length."

"And it resulted in nothing. Actions are louder than talk, Obi-Wan."

I'm fueled to win the round and in the end he quietly admits, "Solah," with my sabre pointed at his throat.

* * *

Thrust out on the front again. Some mission on some planet in some system.

I don't lead the troops into battle with a bold battlecry and a valiant heart.

I know the truth. We're fighting a false war to sow chaos across the galaxy.

I still feel uneasy around the clones. I study them before the fight. The troopers wouldn't have voluntarily turned, would they?

Many legions aren't treated as well by the Jedi as the 212th are. In the case of the 501st, there were reasons for distrust and doubt.

I will change that. The best candidate to mindprobe is the Captain. Rex is constantly by Anakin's side. I can check for nuances, see if his attitude changes.

I poke too hard at his mind with the Force, and he jerks his head, unsteady on his feet.

"You alright, Rex?" Ahsoka stares, concern in her eyes.

"I'm good, Commander."

We're dropped into the field and fight through waves of droids.

I didn't actually expect to trigger a deep-rooted implement of some sort in the Captain's brain. It happens after we're separated from the rest of the ranks.

It's the Captain and I versus swarms of skeleton-thin battle droids. I sense hostile thoughts from the one person in the nearby vicinity. And then the words come. "Good soldiers follow orders."

Senses on high-alert, I twist and spin over the clone and he turns, levels his pistols at me. He opens fire. I deflect the bolts with relative ease.

I sweep in towards him, slice through the blasters. Plasma stabs through his shoulder pauldron and he screams. He's forced down by a shove of my hand.

He doesn't stop. His arms go for my neck. I notice one of his hands are missing.

A Force suggestion is implanted in his thoughts, and Captain Rex slumps under me.


End file.
